Insania
by Madison Avello
Summary: After a long summer, Draco returns to school, in mind that he has to leave shortly after--perhaps forever.
1. Red Letter Day

[A/N: Revised Chpt.1. It came to my attention that the paragraphs got screwed up getting uploaded over onto Fanfiction.net, so I changed it. Some of the paragraphs, though slightly changed, could not be modified. Hope this made everyone's viewing a little more easier. =) Enjoy.]  
  
pIt had been days, weeks, perhaps even a couple of months since Draco Malfoy had set foot on the Hogwarts grounds. But now, the not-so-young blonde's time at the Manor was nearing to an end, and he couldn't be happier.  
  
pUndergoing endless hours of torment and abuse from his father, whom no one dared question, it was finally time to leave and cover it with a façade, only those subtle enough could ever even remotely hint at.  
  
pPacking-no, shoving-the last of his books into his large trunk, with a huge emblem 'DM' in gold lettering on the side, he shut his trunk, and took a glance around the room. The room which father had administered punishments for no reason, for which he said, needed to make Draco a Malfoy. Numerous signs of this occurrence had been completely wiped from the room, leaving only the sign of a very good house elf. The room which, after the punishments had been given, Narcissa rushed in and comforted her beaten and bloodied son. He had hastily remembered his mother's soft, caressing touch to his swollen skin, and how he had collapsed into her arms, man enough not to cry. Yet his mother did nothing, because she equally had taken the abuse, and there was no stopping Lucius when he was on the warpath. Constant reminder of the promise she had made by saying her vows. How she had brushed his untamed silvery blonde hair, repeating the patronizing words 'Things will get better.' But how could things get better if everything was constantly at it's worse?  
  
pOf course, no one except him and his mother know about the treatment they got. The house elves, whenever they suspected something, were put under a ruthless memory charm. Draco subconsciously bit his lip and balled his hands into fists, getting into another fury about what his father does. But of course, he would never do anything about it. 'No.' he told himself quietly, for he knew the answer. '. That would only make things worse.' Chuckling slightly, he gritted his teeth. How could things get worse? Would he be killed? 'No.' he told himself again. '.That would mean something would get better.' His father had no remorse for his only heir, and if anything happened to Draco, which Draco suspected was going to happen, he would only impregnate Narcissa, against her will, again. If he even thought about doing-  
  
pHis trail of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by a swift knocking on his door. Too hard to be that of his mothers, and too gentle to be that of his fathers, he pondered, rushing over to the brass doorknob to open it. "Master Malfoy." The downtrodden house elf said, in a cracking voice, due to the effects of aging. "Your father has requested your presence downstairs. It is almost time to leave." Draco raised his eyebrows slightly, a trademark of the Slytherin, then pompously nodded, exiting the room, assuming the elf would take his bags and such. Cascading down the stone staircase, knowing exactly where he was expected, he tried his best to clear his recent thoughts, for his father knew exactly what he was thinking, for some strange reason. Entering the vast Dining Hall, his father was sitting at the head of the table, while Narcissa was sitting several seats down from him, though no visitors were at hand. This was not a good sign. He took a seat next to his mother, instead of by his father. Sitting next to his father would result in punishment, he had known from first hand experience. But instead of receiving a harsh glare from his father, he received a deceiving warm smile. "Draco, my son, my heir, please. Take a seat next to me." Definitely not a good sign, Draco thought to himself. "Yes father." He obeyed, shooting a nervous glance to his mother, who was, also taken aback by Lucius' sudden kindness. Pulling out a seat diagonal from his father, he looked at the large grandfather clock, directly across from Draco, and grimaced. Any more wasted time, and he might miss the Hogwarts Express. But he didn't dare question his father about his doing. Just remained quiet, as always.  
  
pBut his father had an unusual sly smile on face, the kind he had on when he was devising a plan.  
  
p "Draco." His father began. His tone was unusually kind, and it was apparent he had a lot on his mind. "You're almost of-age now, and I believe it's time that you had begun to take on some.responsibilities."  
  
p "Responsibilities, father?" He muttered, trying to keep his tone unwavering. He had wanted to sound as dignified and calm as ever, hoping his father wouldn't catch his nervous voice.  
  
p "Yes." His father responded, obviously unfazed of his son's naivete. "Voldermort and I had been discussing your.importance to the Dark side, and we have decided, that it's time for you to start carrying out tasks." Draco grimaced. "Y-yes father. I accept, but we really should get-" Draco begun to start, glancing at the time again. "SILENCE!" His father bellowed, obviously very teed off that Draco DARE change the subject on Lucius Malfoy, right-hand man to Voldermort, the greatest evil being that ever lived. His father administered a swift blow to the head with his snakehead cane, striking from its dormant state beside Lucius' side. Draco knew not to flinch. Not to recoil. Not to show pain. But a rather large welt was forming on the side of his head. "Now, Draco. I'm not at all sorry for doing that, but I'm surprised you haven't learned discipline over the summer." His father nodded his head. "But it was very coy of you to notice that I was over-extending my invitation. On a later date, then, we will discuss. For now, it's off to send you to that cursed school." He said, rising from the table. Draco and Narcissa quickly followed suit behind him, walking out of the Dining Hall's door and into the Main Hall, where guests were greeted, and son's departures were had. "I will send an owl for our next meeting." Lucius' stated, instead of a goodbye, and stalked off. 'Up the stairs to his study, perhaps.' Draco thought to himself, looking with keen eyes to his mother. "Goodbye, Draco." She breathed, embracing her only son tightly. "Owl me, if anything happens." Of course, this was an empty promise on both of their behalves, for if anything, anything at all came addressed to Narcissa, it was quickly intercepted by Lucius, who read it and ripped it up. But still, not to dampen his mother's spirits, he nodded, then went out to the grounds of the Manor, following a rather short house elf to the car. Laying down in the back seat, he bleakly stared up at the ceiling, as the car pulled out of the long cascading driveway. The ride to the station would be a short one, but he was anticipating it. He was even anticipating seeing that stupid Potter boy. Especially, he thought, that stupid Potter boy.  
  
pThe station had begun to come into view, and soon enough, the driver had pulled up near the ticket booth. Draco left suddenly, without a word of thanks. He pushed his cart, which had been made up by the house elf that escorted him out of the house, and ran into the barrier. The train was making its last boarding calls. He quickly boarded, looking for an empty compartment of which he could occupy in peace. Luckily, there was one towards the back several first years were enjoying to themselves, which the old Engorgio charm to their noses could fix. Peace and quiet. He was enjoying being out from the house already, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his mother. How would she be safe? His father would never kill her, being the only one who was stupid enough to marry the greasy-haired git. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he had the feeling he was being watched.or stalked. He moved over closer to the window, and now all he wanted to be was off of the train. A loud, oaf-like banging was heard outside the door, and for a second he was sure it was his father. Stirring greatly in his seat, he balled his fists again, so much that his nails were digging into the flesh on his skin, then turned towards the door. It slid open, without much hesitation to reveal the staggering figures of Crabbe and Goyle. "Idiots." He murmured under his breath, watching stupid grins come onto their faces. "Draco!" Goyle started, stomping in and taking a seat opposite of him. "We were looking all over the train for you! We thought you weren't coming this year!" Both Crabbe and Goyle let out a very large guffawing laughter. "Har har har." Draco imitated, in his drawling, sarcastic speech, obviously not amused. "Why don't you two gits go and make yourselves useful, and find me something to eat?" All Draco wanted was them out of his compartment. All he wanted was peace and quiet. All he wanted was-"Aye aye, boss!" Replied Crabbe, and the two shuffled out of the cabin. 'Alohamora.' Draco muttered, and the cabin door was locked. Of course, this was against school rules, but he really didn't care right now. Curling up in a little ball, feeling quite uneasy, he tried his best to pass to sleep, but sleep didn't come easily for him. Not now. Not ever.  
  
p [Beg. Flashback]"Daddy!" A much, much younger version of Draco Malfoy ran up to his aging father, who also looked drastically younger. His father, no longer having the evil glint in his eye, or the hatred in his voice, actually smiled. He scooped his son up into his arms, and beamed down on him. "Great catch, son!" Lucius said to his son, and ruffled Draco's hair slightly. An over-sized snitch was gripped in Draco's 5-year- old hand, and he was holding onto it. It was obvious that the snitch was made for younger children. Shifting in his lap, Draco looked up at his father. Lucius looked down on him, still smiling. His grip on Draco tightened. Suddenly, a spark of fire gleamed in Lucius Malfoy's eyes, it burned like cold fire, like warm-hot hate. "D-d-daddy! You're hurting me!" The little Draco yelped, struggling to break free of his father's grip. "Daddy! Stop! Please!" But the malice in his eyes only grew, until finally Draco was reduced to tears. His father's grip loosened, but his smile stayed put. [End Flashback]  
  
pDraco darted awake on the train. It had stopped, and Hagrid was calling all first years to follow him. He got up and exited, passing by all of the compartments. The dream was frighteningly real, and he suspected it was a memory he wouldn't forget. Shaking his head, he peeked into the one closest to the front of the train. Of course, Potter, Weasley and Granger were in there, all having a grand old time. As he passed by, they all seemed to give him a simultaneous glare, but Harry decided not to. He just sat there and stared at him. 'Weird.' thought Draco, whose usual hatred for Harry had been misplaced. He swallowed roughly, and directed his attention ahead of him, exiting the train and onto the platform. He still could not shake that feeling that he was being ultimately watched.  
  
pAs he headed back from the feast, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He shifted around, to see who was behind him, then, realizing no one was there, continued on his way. It had been a fairly uneventful feast, the usual. 6th year, he had heard, was always boring. The corridor branching from the potions dungeons was getting farther and farther away, and Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could walk. Finally approaching the blank wall, he attempts to walk into the wall that will lead him into the Common Room-his salvation. He walked into the wall-and hit his head, with a sickening thud. "Bloody hell." He mutters to himself, trying to walk into it again, to no avail. "BLOODY HELL! WHAT IN MERLINS NAME IS WRONG WITH THIS BLOODY WALL!" He cries out in defeat. Kicking, and punching the wall in agony, the Bloody Baron flies out, looking at the young Malfoy curiously. "Master Malfoy." He begins. "Is there something you wish to accomplish by doing this?" Draco looked up at him stubbornly. "My own Common Room wont even let me in." He muttered softly. The Baron let out a chuckle, then blinked. "Master Malfoy, the Common Room entrance is down that corridor." And pointed a ghostly finger in the other direction. "Uh.thanks Baron." He said, starting off in the other direction, and entering the correct wall with ease. The common room was mostly vacant, except for a few first years discussing with one another about their first days. He took a seat in an empty leather chair, and curled up, trying not to replicate too girly of a pose. Sleep came easy for him that night, it had been a long and tiring day.  
  
p [Beg. Flashback]"YOU WON'T HURT HIM AGAIN!" Narcissa's voice screeched through the entire mansion. "Woman, if you resist, you'll get in the way of my plans. I'm training him." Lucius' voice was very calm and collected, though the fury in his eyes was rising. "LUCIUS! YOURE HURTING HIM! INFLICTING PAIN!" Narcissa's voice was just the opposite, and the fury was being expressed in her speech. Draco quietly crept out of bed, and watched through the bars on his staircase. Many bruises, which he was not used to, were grouping on his face, from earlier that day. It had been the first time his father struck him for no reason, and his mother had gotten quite upset over it. "You will lower your voice to me, woman!" Lucius said, and struck Narcissa, who let out a defeated yelp and fell to the floor. "Mommy!" Draco yelled, standing up against the bars. Lucius, too angry to notice Draco's yells, began to kick Narcissa violently in the ribs, until she was reduced to a crying heap. She looked up at Draco, and mouthed 'Go back to bed' through bleeding lips. 'Everything is okay.' She mouthed. 'Everything is okay.' She mouthed again. [End Flashback]  
  
pDraco shot up from the chair, in a bout of cold sweat. The Common Room was long emptied, and very dark. It had also been very chilly. Draco tried his best to shake the images-the memories-the dreams he had of his childhood out of his head, but he kept hearing his voice-his mothers voice- his father's voice, and his fathers merciless hand swooping down on his mother, again and again and again.  
  
pHe tried to shake the feeling of guilt of leaving his mother home, but it was no use. Getting up slowly from the frigid leather seat, he dashed up to his dorm, not liking the vagueness of the dark. He felt around the wooden door to his room for the brass doorknob, and pressed it open slowly. Moans and such were coming from the next bed over. 'Oh great.' He thought to himself. 'I have to share a room with Crabbe and Goyle again.' But the two seemed unfazed at his entrance, and went back to doing what they were before he entered. Draco lay sleepily on the bed. Maybe it was from Crabbe and Goyle snogging the next bed over. Maybe it was the fact that his father would force him into the Dark Arts if it was necessary. Or maybe it was that his mother was at home, getting beaten just around this time. Whatever it was, Draco couldn't fall asleep that night.  
  
pIt was early morning, and Draco, sleepy eyed and moody was sitting in between his two croonies, eating his porridge. The slop tasted cold and tasteless in his mouth, and he was looking rather glum. Signs of a sleep- less night were making themselves apparent underneath his eyes, in the shape of gray circles. Nothing unusual was happening in the Great Hall as-  
  
pOwls of all shapes and sizes began to swoop down from the ceiling, with parcels and packages and parchments galore. A raven black owl with emerald eyes took the sky, and everyone's attention. 'Oh no.' Draco murmured to himself, watching it's route flying directly towards him. Its dark green eyes scanned him with an evil grin, and landed on the rim of his bowl, letting out a cackle, rather than a 'hoot'. Draco fumbled with the small, black parchment tied to its leg. It was, no doubt, from his father, and so important that it was enchanted to only be visible when Draco was alone. But also tied onto it's leg was an object Draco recognized instantly-a portkey. It was shaped like a normal clothespin, but Draco knew that his father wanted him home-soon. Making his exit as subtle as possible-and not doing a very good job at it, for the black owl now began to hoot furiously, needing something for the ride back. Draco let out an exasperated sigh and gave it the remnants of an English Muffin, which had been lying on Goyle's idle plate (He had said that him and Crabbe were going on diets for each other. *eyeroll*). The owl, not very pleased, but happy enough to fly home to it's master, took off, making itself the spectacle of the Great Hall. Draco watched it fly off, then hurried down the corridor, and into the wall- the CORRECT wall, mind you-that would let him into the common room. Looking around at the few people in the Common Room, he dashed upstairs into his dorm, and locked the door. Carefully unfolding the note, he read it to himself silently-  
  
pDraco- You'll find a portkey attached to this letter. Be at the manor at promptly 3 PM. -Lucius  
  
pHis father did not even bother to sign it as 'father' or 'dad', just simply Lucius. Well, actually, it might be a little creepy if Lucius had signed a letter referring to the Dark Arts as 'Dad'. He sighed heavily and looked blankly at the door, which now Crabbe and Goyle were banging on, wondering what all the fuss was. 'It's going to be a long day.' Draco mumbled to himself, and unlocked the door.  
  
pDraco fumbled with the portkey in his pocket, tracing his index finger along the outside of the clothespin. It had been in his pocket all day, and it was aching to be of use. Now, as the hour was getting closer, a humming aurora had begun to surround it. He straightened his robes, wearing his finest forest green one, with a snake branching up the breast pocket, on the other side 'DM' was initialed in gold stitching. Draco knew something was up, for his father to pull him out of school so cordially like this. Either that or he had gotten bored with beating up Narcissa, and needed a new punching bag. Whatever the reason, it made him very uneasy.  
  
p Suddenly, the large grandfather clock that was in the room began to chime three times. The room began to swirl around him, very slowly at first, like a ride at an amusement park. But it quickly began to pick up pace, and pretty soon he felt he was going headfirst into a brick wall. Faster.faster-blackness. Draco opened his eyes, and his father and Voldermort were calmly, collectively sitting in front of him, casually talking. His father's eyes turned beady at the sight of him. "You're late." He hissed.  
  
p "S-sorry, father." Draco replied, voice cracking. Voldermort had been incantated into the body of Phillip Zabini, a well-known and respected Death Eater. He was sitting, alongside Lucius, at the head of the table. Voldermort cleared his throat, to let him know he should pay respects to his elders. Draco clearly was startled.  
  
p "Lord Voldermort. Sorry. Please forgive me." He went through the routine of rushing over to his Dark Lord, bowing his head, and kneeling on all fours, like some kind of animals. Voldermort merely chuckled at this act, patted Draco's back, and beckoned him up.  
  
p "Sit, my child. You are forgiven." Voldermort replied a ghastly smile on face. He was up to something-the both of them, and Draco could tell. "My, my, he has gotten big, Lucius. A fine example of what it means to be Malfoy." Lucius grunted in retort, too afraid to disagree with his master in public, but later he would scold Draco for it. "Yes, master. He is growing up quite well. He should make an impressionable Death Eater." Lucius added, to please his master as well.  
  
p "Excellent observation, but we are getting off topic." Draco looked at Voldermort, a nervous twitch in his eyes. He began to shift nervously in his seat. "T-topic?" Draco stuttered, his father's beady eyes glaring down at him. "Draco! How dare you insult Lord Voldermort like that! From now on you address both him and I as 'master'." Lucius sneered, preparing to thwack him with the cane, but was too far away. Voldermort merely nodded. "Yes, Draco. It is time that you started acting more.like a Malfoy." It was obvious that Lucius was clearly appalled at this saying, that his son, the heir for which he had been training for well over eleven years. But, Lucius was just a yes-man, so he had to agree with his master or face dire consequences. "Yes, master, I agree. Perhaps I must go through some more.rigorous training?" He suggested. Voldermort shook his head, but a sly smile crossed his face. "No, Lucius, I have a far better idea.lets say you.release him into my care. I think he could accelerate more, if he's with me." Lucius, had a steady expression on his face, like he just tasted milk left out for decades, but he pretended to be coughing to cover it up. "Why-" cough "yes, master-" cough cough "I agree with you 100%. Perhaps, maybe, we should start next summer?" He twisted his face up into a wreck, and pretended to be recovering. Draco sat, looking at the two deciding his fate. His face was contorted horribly into a cross between a pleasant smile and an appalling frown. "In y-your care, master?" He twitched terribly in his seat, giving awkward glances to his father. His father, of course, couldn't be any madder. Losing his best punching bag, and prized possession to show off? No, this time he was asking too much. This time, he was going to stand up. This time-"Oh, don't be silly, Lucius. Of course not over the summer! We shall start on Christmas break. I shall pull him out of Hogwarts, and give him proper 'schooling' at home. Yes, this is perfect." Voldermort clapped his hands together and strangely-ruffled Draco's hair. "It shall be the perfect schooling experience." Lucius stared at his son, almost amazed that he was going through with this without any contest. But he knew Draco knew better than to argue with Lord Voldermort, darkest being of all of Wizarding time. Lucius smiled at his son's discipline, and nodded his head. "Yes, master, it shall be over Christmas break. I will have his wardrobe shipped over to you." The thoughts of despair over losing his punching bag had left his blank, empty, blonde head, and now the new thoughts of getting Narcissa pregnant began to take their place. But instead of letting on, he smiled pompously, like a true Malfoy, not letting out what he's really feeling. "Draco, go tell your mother of your departure." Although it might be the last time you see her, boy. Lucius added sinisterly in his mind. Draco nodded solemnly, and rose from his seat, bowing to both Voldermort and Lucius unanimously. He walked out into the Main pavilion of the manor, where he found his mother, sitting on a stone bench by the enchanted garden. Narcissa was stroking the leaves of one plant, and was looking more dejected than ever. "M-mum?" It had been the first time he ever stuttered by his mother. "Draco! What are you doing home?" She pretended to be in mock surprise, but really the sly wife and mother had been listening to the whole conversation from outside the large oak doors. "I um.I am.I'm.Gods, mother, this is so hard to say." Every ounce of him wanted to embrace his mother, and have her soft caressing hands just rub his head, and say that everything will be okay again. Finally, Narcissa broke down and did embrace her son. "I know, Draco. I heard." She sobbed into his chest, and a few tears slid unnoticed down Draco's cheeks. He put his arms around her, and held his mother, not ever in a million years wanting to leave her. After sometime, his father appeared in the doorway leading out onto the pavilion. His face broke out in a crude frown, as he brought his cane violently on Draco's head. "Boy! No mushy stuff! And you're crying?!" He brought the cane down again, and glared. "Lets go." He muttered ripping Draco's arm off of his mother, dragging him off. For a man of Lucius' age, he was quite strong and powerful. "Mum!" He screamed, the first time he was pained to be away from his mother for years. "Mum! I love you!" He yelled again, being tottered off by Lucius. At a last attempt to be with his mother, his arms flailed out wildly, grabbing onto his mothers for a split second, then being ripped off, and carried on inside. "Boy." Lucius snarled. "One more move like that, and I'll have you killed."  
  
pVoldermort was calmly standing by the front entrance, though he had no mind to go waltzing out of the front door. He was merely to apparate, whenever their little luncheon was finished. Rapping Draco on the head with his cane one final time, Lucius put it back by his side and led Draco towards Voldermort. "I'll see you during Christmas break." He chuckled evilly, and apparated out. Lucius scoffed, handed Draco a portkey (a compact disc) and headed back to his study.  
  
pDraco looked hard at the portkey, tears were still dripping freely down his face. His mother was the closest friend he had ever had to comfort him, and now she would be gone. He had the urge to go and find her in the manor, but if his father found him, punishments would be had. He signed heavily, and intook the vast swirling that was now swallowing him whole. In a few seconds, he was in his dorm, standing inches away from his bed, tears still in eyes. Collapsing on his bed, he hugged his pillow tightly and cried spontaneously for the first time in his life, unafraid of who might see him and what they might say.  
  
p-End Ch.1- 


	2. 10 Minutes

[A/N: Revised Chpt.2. It came to my attention that the paragraphs got screwed up getting uploaded over onto Fanfiction.net, so I changed it. Some of the paragraphs, though slightly changed, could not be modified. Hope this made everyone's viewing a little more easier. =) Enjoy.]  
  
pAbout a week had passed since Draco had received the news, and he was ultimately dreading Christmas break. Also, he became very anti-social, wandering away from large crowds, and roaming the halls alone. What was also fogging his mind, was that Potter boy. Sure, from first meeting, Draco had known he was going to be difficult, but something about the boy made him rather appealing.  
  
pIn an un-gay kind of way, of course, he told himself.  
  
pBut that didn't stop him from looking, and toning down the famous 'Death- glare-at-Potter'. Even Ron and Hermione began to notice something was up.  
  
pOne day after one of Malfoy's pitiful glances, Ron had noticed, and confronted Harry. "Hey Harry, what was all that all about?" He questioned, slinging his bag over his shoulder. The jet-black haired boy simply shrugged. Harry was becoming quite aquatinted with Malfoy goggling at him all of the time, and strangely enough, he wasn't even the tiniest perturbed by it. But, of course, he wouldn't share his feelings with Ron, best friend or not. "I don't know, Ron. It's weird. Maybe he's finally realized that he's just a greasy haired git, and come to his senses or something." There was an awkward pause between the two, and although a tiny pang in Harry's heart set off, they both burst up into a fit of laughter. "We're both talking about Malfoy here, right?" Ron joked. But thankfully, Draco was far in front of them, stalking the halls, mind busily at work. October had come as fast as September, and while that wore down, the breezes of November seemed to haunt the air wherever they went. It was towards the end of November, when Draco started to get really testy about the judgement day drawing nearer upon him. Now and then, Draco got an owl from his father, reminding him of what to bring, how to act, and-if he was feeling especially bored-how he would punish him if Voldermort detected anything out of the usual with him.  
  
pDraco lounged lazily in the Great Hall, picking at his meal. As the day drew nearer for him to take his final leave at Hogwarts, and become a full- fledged death eater, he was sleeping and eating less, and thinking a great deal more.  
  
pAs the morning owl calls came in, he was not suspicious to have another raven black one swooping down towards him. This one was possibly the coldest, most evil out of all of them. Its eyes were just as black as its plumage, and a black letter dropped onto the table, singeing everything around it, including Draco's plate. Crabbe made a lunge for it, and for a quick second, had a good grip on it, until slight crackling and burning could be heard. Looking down at the envelope, which was clutched in his fat fingers, he realized that it was burning through his hand, and he quickly dropped it. "AHH!" He yelled, bringing his fingers towards him and shoving them in the water goblet, which began to fill up as he did. Slight smoke rose from the goblet, and Draco looked amused. Grabbing the letter, the owl hissed at Crabbe's ignorance, and flew away, pulling up a piece of Goyle's toast up along with it. Draco pulled the letter from the table, and quickly headed up to the common room, something that he was used to doing. Closing and locking the door to the room, he peeled the letter open, and dumped the contents onto the floor, not taking much consideration to it. Out tumbled a carefully written note, which apparently looked like it had been written in blood. It was from Voldermort. He picked it up with more care then he had dropped it, and proceeded to read it. It looked like it was scrawled out lovingly, and put in format of that of a loving father would write to his son away at Hogwarts. Not something you'd expect a dark underlord to write.  
  
pDearest Draco,I am looking forward so to our private Death Eating lessons together. Your father and I are so proud of you for taking on this great responsibility and there is no doubt in my mind that you will be the next Dark Lord. And finally, once your lessons are complete, together, we will be able to kill Harry. Then, the Dark Ones shall rise up again-  
  
pHe crumpled it up. Draco was tired of his bull shit and rambling about how darkness would rise to power again. He was a little creeped out, as he crumpled up the letter into a tight ball and tossed it in the wastebasket, and it disintegrated into flames. Draco sighed and collapsed onto his four poster bed, and stared at the ceiling. Right now, he was wishing more than anything to be someone else-Crabbe, Goyle, even Potter. Especially Potter.  
  
pDraco somehow knew from first sight that Potter wouldn't be an easy character. Still, he tried to be as forth giving as he could, even extending a hand of help. But Harry refused it, with much dignity still intact. Of course, Draco's ego wasn't a bit bruised, in fact, it inflated every time an insult was thrown at Harry's direction, or the Weasley family was insulted. But something inside him rung with guilt every time. A part of him wanted to be friends with Harry. Close, close friends. His father, however, would be furious with the thought, and would definitely kill him then. So, however much he wanted to, the urge was definitely stifled.  
  
pHowever, the feeling was certainly mutual. Harry lay, body draped over one of the rather over-stuffed lounge chairs in the Gryffindor common rooms. Many people were off minding their own business, finishing up on the rather large pile of homework they had received. Lee Jordan, who had been censored at recent quidditch games, was muttering to himself in the corner, about Transfiguration homework. ".The.tea.kettle.is.easily.transfigured.into.a.marsupial.when."He muttered silently to himself. Harry scanned his eyes around the room again. Fred and George were patenting their latest branch of Wizarding Jokes, a non- Stunnable or Vanishable firecracker. "Oh yes, guaranteed to last at least a week." George's highly convincing voice led anxious and excited first years on. Harry sniggered slightly to himself, before resting eyes upon Ron. He looked very fixated on what he was scrawling onto a piece of paper, and got red in the ears when anyone came by, pulling it close to his chest like it was a lifesaver. "What are you writing?" Harry chided out to him, not very interested in the subject, but was trying to advert his mind away from Draco. He had no clue why, but lately, he was strangely drawn to him. Ron's face began to burn bright red, as he blinked up at Harry, clutching his paper to his chest again. "Um-nothing, Harry. Just something for-er- Trelenway. Yes, Exactly. Homework-" Harry's face conjured into a half smirk, half confused look. "Okay Ron. Are you taking remedial from her? Because she didn't assign us anything except for the 'bloody, gruesome death' for me over the break." They both broke into laughter, however, Ron's was slightly more nervous. Harry, sensing the tension in the air, rose from his seat, as if he was cramped up. "Right, well-yes, Ron. I think I'm going to go get some-fresh air." Harry said, which made Ron look up skeptical at him. Don't criticize him.Ron's mind pleaded with him. .then he might question you.He blinked up at Harry, and offered a small shard of a smile. "Okay, Harry. Tell me if you snog Cho." Ron grinned cheekily, then his face grew serious as he peeked back down at the parchment he was scrawling on, and broke into dead silence, as if to end the conversation.  
  
pHarry shrugged and left the common room, watching a menacing Peeves stream by, followed by a very angry Filch, calling after him something about hanging Peeves by his thumbs. Peeves, on the other hand, cackled, and flew in the other direction, through Filch again. Harry chuckled to himself, receiving a glare from Filch, and made a mental note that he was on the warpath, and hummed down the hall, not going anywhere in particular.  
  
pDraco, however, stormed down the other end, looking quite displeased with himself. Crabbe and Goyle were both throwing tantrums in the dorm, both very convinced that they were now totally straight, and trying to rub it in each other's faces. Meanwhile, girls everywhere were somehow sensing that his days at Hogwarts were numbered, and they had been approaching him all afternoon. To escape it all, Draco stormed out of the common room, and was now roaming the halls, wanting to go anywhere to vent.  
  
pHow am I going to deal with Voldermort? He-creeps me out.Draco's thoughts ran frantically through his head. Ron's being so secretive-what next? Harry thought, in the same frantic rage as Draco.  
  
pHow will I-  
  
pWhen will I-  
  
pOOF. The two bodies had collided, knocked to the floor by their incompetence. Immediately, Draco hardened and put up the rough exterior that had been up for nearly seven years. "Potter, you blundering fool." But his words came out gentle, not at all sounding as insulting as they should have been. "Yeah, well, Malfoy, if it hadn't been for you, I wouldn't have tripped." But Harry's words had lost their bitterness, as well. The two boys just lay sprawled on the floor, gazing at each other, before pattering footsteps of first years could be audible, as their Quidditch training had just let out. Madame Hooch stood in the hall, beaming on her little stars of tomorrow, as they chatted to one another about the day's doings. Harry scrambled to his feet, hesitating, but lending a hand to help Malfoy up. Shooting an 'I-totally-want-to-take-your-hand-but-not-in-public' look at him, he clambered up on his own, and they gazed at each other again, before they could feel the stares of scattered people, who had begun to file out into the hallway. Harry began to turn around, but Draco grasped Harry's arm. He held his breath. "Be-um-more careful.next time, Harry." Harry let his breath go, just as Draco withheld his grasp on his arm.  
  
pHe called me Harry-  
  
pI called him Harry-  
  
pThey swiveled away and paced back to each stationary common room. Ron, who was still fixated over the parchment, had begun nearing the end of whatever he was hastily scrawling out. His inkbottle was half empty, and his writing picked up pace as Harry entered. No way am I ever going to show him this.Ron thought to himself in a hurry, and finished the letter as Harry plopped down into an armchair. As Ron collected his supplies, Harry had a pleased look on his face. "Did you see Cho?" He questioned, hoping secretly that the answer was no.  
  
pCho. Harry had forgotten about his crush on her. Whenever he heard the name, chills swam up his spine, and he knew he would never completely lose his feelings for her. "I-um-no." Harry replied, not wanting to go into details.  
  
p "Really? Then why are you so happy? What, did you jinx Malfoy or something?" A small, Weasley smile crept up on Ron's face and Harry's expression worsened.  
  
pAt this insult to Draco, Harry, himself had been slightly offended, too. After Draco had been nice enough to.say his name. When he thought about it, chills went up his spine again. "I-er-tripped him." He said, trying his best to cover up his true expressions about the topic. Ron could tell he wasn't doing an exactly good job. "Harry-is there, why are you.what happened? Did he say something about your mum again? Oh, I bet he did that dirty little rat. He's a spoiled brat who wont even admit he's a sniveling- " Ron's rants were cut short by Harry abruptly raising his voice. "RON! Come on, don't be like that. I think I handled the situation well." Harry said, still vague about the topic. "Well, come off it then, Harry! What did you do?" Ron's temper was slowly thinning, and his ears were getting red. The parchment in his hand had been slightly crumpled. "I-well-we just were nice to each other. That's all. He didn't try and insult me or anything." Ron let out a little 'tut tut', but Harry brushed it off, and sank back into the armchair. Ron got up and left the common room up to the dorm, without another word.  
  
pIt wasn't until a week before Christmas break when Harry and Draco had their next encounter. As usual, Harry was staying at the school, as was Ron and Hermione. The year had been slow, and they hadn't been through any problems such as the previous ones. Everyone was enjoying the festivities, and a Hogsmede trip was scheduled later for that Saturday. Ron couldn't go, as he had to finish up a Potions essay, which had been long overdue. Hermione was being rather rebellious about it, arguing with him. "Oh, for Heaven's sake, Ron, why even bother? The parchment was due last week, if Snape didn't have it then, there's no way he's going to accept it late." Ron, however, was brushing it off. "It's better late than never, and I need that extra grade to bring my OWL up. Mum wants me to take Potions for my NEWTs, and theres no way I'm going to make it!" Ron's eyes pleaded, darting over to Harry occasionally, to see if he would back him up. Lately, Ron was getting peeved over the littlest things, his emotions running high. He had been especially testy about Herbology earlier, when Harry accidentally misplaced his garden gloves. He could still hear Ron's anguished yells running through his mind. Ron had shot him another look, this time agitated that Harry hadn't backed him up. Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably, and looked around. "I-if Ron is so.so inclined to work on his essay, then I guess I'll forgo that trip to Hogsmede. I mean, it's not like I have to buy presents for my family, or anything." He laughed nervously, and glanced around. Hermione's look had changed from a piercing glare into Ron to a shower of sympathy over Harry. "Harry.don't.don't be like that." Hermione said, shooting him a look, as if trying to raise his moods. "I'll-I'll stay behind and help Ron, instead. Besides, I already got my gift for you." She said beaming, and, indeed she had. It was a small present, two picture frames, connected to an enchanted camera. The pictures in the frame would change whenever a new picture was taken. It had been for sale at Hogsmede, in an old antique shop, and Hermione fixed it up quite well.  
  
pRon grinned, catching on. He knew Harry needed some alone time, as well, and nodded. "Yeah, Hermy is bound to help me get this done." He said, with a false smirk. "Besides, you haven't been since the year started-go on and help yourself, mate." Harry nodded curtly and offered a small smile. "Alright, thanks guys." He said, blinking rapidly.  
  
pAs many of the students began to slowly file out of the Great Hall, falling into the slumps of sleep, Harry tried his best to keep the other two, who showed no sign of slowing, company. It was hard because, strangely enough, for the first time in weeks, he felt tired, ready to fall asleep. Looking up at his friends with the most innocent looking face ever, he blinked. "Guys.I'm really bloody tired. And tomorrows the trip. I'm going to go rest up." They both, to his surprise, nodded reluctantly, and Harry rose from his spot.  
  
pThe corridor seemed to endlessly go on, until he realized he had taken the wrong staircase. With a few coarse curses of frustration, he finally made it into the portrait hole. Once inside, he looked around the empty common room. No one had been left in it, at all. Wow, it must be bloody late.he thought to himself. And indeed, it was. As he glanced over to the oak grandfather clock, the hands read almost three o'clock. Trudging his way up the stairs, he pushed back the fabric of his bed that separated him and his four poster from conjoining in sleep. As he collapsed on it, everything seemed to fade away fast, and before he knew it, sleep had embraced him.  
  
pThe morning came quick, and it seemed just as his body hit the bed that he had to wake up again. Of course, he wasn't in that bad of a mood. In fact, his spirits were slightly raised, for not having to go to classes and whatnot.  
  
pRon, who had strangely been long awake, was sitting in the common room, putting the finishing touches on the Potions essay. Harry would not know about this, though, because there were different reasons why Hermione and he were not going on the Hogsmede trip.  
  
pHermione, however, was sitting next to him, dead asleep. She had stayed up later than Ron, though on her own thought. Her bushy brown hair was neatly done, though, and she looked as if she was a mannequin. Her piercing orbs and often-furrowed brow were long relaxed, and Ron hesitated to wake her. After a couple of moments pondering, he finally shook the girl awake, watching her calm persona fixate into her normal Hermione expression. A kind smile slid across his face and he looked at her, red hair actually looking quite bleak with his outfit of clashed grays.  
  
p "Hey Herm. G'morning."  
  
p "Morning, Ron."  
  
pIt seemed at the nick of time that Hermione had woken from her slumber, for a couple of seconds after that, Harry came trudging down the steps, looking quite groggy. With this action, Hermione quickly snapped awake, looking more alert than ever.  
  
p "Morning, Harry!" There was much enthusiasm in her voice, as was everything when she was talking to Harry. She had developed a schoolgirl crush on him that came and went with seasons. This early winter, however, she was again head over heels in love with him. Ron silently rolled his eyes at her, and resisted the heavy urge to mimic her. But, he knew better than that. For, as he knew of her crush, she also knew of his, and he never doubted her ability to get back at him. Shuddering slightly at the thought, he merely shot a distant look at Harry.  
  
pAnd, indeed, the two had grown apart since the beginning of the year, often avoiding each other. But everything was forgotten as the two stared at each other, the latter's thoughts so opposite from the other's.  
  
p "Um.G'morning, guys. I-I-I should be getting down to the Great Hall, then. I woke up rather late." They all shared a hearty, though nervous laugh, and each could not tell why the moment was so tense. Perhaps it was the state of all of their minds, and how focused they were on the one subject. Whatever it was, it was making Harry, Hermione and Ron, the ol' Troublesome Trio's laughter sway. Harry dodged their worrisome glances and headed down to the Great Hall, finding himself alone. Even stranger, was that he was used to it. Glancing around, he noticed many more students than usual were present in the Hall. From table to table he peered, eyes never hesitating to fall on one person for more than a millisecond. Finally, he reached the Slytherin table, and there he saw him. Him. Harry didn't know just why he was so enthralled with the fact that the git who had been extremely rude, snobby-only because he had the my-dadsy-owns-everything attitude-and, quite plainly, obnoxious towards him was there. Right in front of him. Staring at hi-Oh God.He thought to himself, shooting Draco a sneer and bolting out of view. He's seen me oogling him.He slunk low into the end seat at the Gryffindor table, head staring at the chipping wood. W  
  
pWispy, silver-blonde eyebrows arched at Harry's swift, sudden movements.  
  
pDraco was in fact, still very tired, but nonetheless anxious about his last Hogsmede trip this year-or maybe, forever. Old, bitter Malfoy moods rose up on him, but he stifled them, as Dumbledore began to talk.  
  
pHe was quite the morning person, eyes sparkling, beaming at every student who showed up, as if reading their exact past. His hat was perched at just an off angle, and his moon shaped glasses stuck out from perfect. Though, these imperfections are what made him Dumbledore. His gaze seemed to calm even the most rough of moods. "Now students-" At once, the talking and chattering began to stop, and all eyes were on him. "-Thank you, for showing up for the last trip until next year! We will begin to board the trains, at once. We're running on a tight schedule, so hurry, hurry!"  
  
pMany of the students-Draco and Harry included-began to trudge outside, only to see the first flurry of the season happening. It was getting harder by the minute, but it was snow, and an enjoyable one at that.  
  
pDraco slid open the door to what would have been every compartment on the train, though there were only about 6, due to the reduced amount of kids. "We're fu-" one started to say, before Draco let out an anguished sob and slammed it. "Full!" Chirped two happy third years, almost routinely. Sliding open the last door, Draco found Harry, sitting alone, amongst Ginny Weasley. "We're FULL and-" She began to start, but Harry hushed her. "Theres a seat for you, Malfoy." He tried his best to put on a stern expression, and say it in a nonchalant tone, but there was no changing the way it came out. "Erm.okay, then." Draco took a seat, opposite from Harry, trying his best to direct his gaze to out the window.  
  
pGinny blinked at them both, distant stares. What? No witty comment from Draco or sneering from Harry? Something was definitely wrong, here, and she'd find out.  
  
p "So, Malfoy, how's your dad? Still having fun being a Death Eater?" Harry's mouth dropped. Before Draco's expression could even change, Harry blew up at her. "GINNY?! WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU? WAS HE HARMING AN-" Draco turned to him, blank expression. ".Harry." He said in an almost-whisper. ".H-Harry, it's alright. I can-" Ginny cut him off. "LET HIM FIGHT HIS OWN BATTLES, HARRY! SINCE WHEN ARE YOU HIS BEST FRIEND?!" Her red hair seemed to shoot up in flames, as she rose from her seat. "WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE ON HIS CASE?! HE WASN'T HARMING ANYONE, SITTING THERE! GODS, GINNY, YOU'RE SO THICK SOMETIMES!" Harry's bellowing ricocheted throughout the compartment, and Draco was hesitant to cover his ears. He just sat back, watching.  
  
p [Beg. Flashback]"NARCISSA!" Lucius bellowed. "Don't you question my authority over the boy. You've known this was to come." It was several months earlier, just before Draco was to come home. Narcissa was shaking, but standing up against him. "Y-you can't send him off to that loon!" That was it. She knew, she'd insulted the Dark Lord, Lucius' pride and glory to talk about in the house. It was-THWACK. Lucius had smacked her over the shoulders. "Don't you-DARE-talk about Him like that-EVER AGAIN." His tone was like a painful death finally taking its hostage. A meek and stifled sob escaped her, but she grimly nodded her head, eyes on the ground.[End Flashback]  
  
pThe train screeched to a halt. Harry was sure everyone could hear what was going on in the compartment, yet, when they were exiting, no one dared to talk about it. Draco paced, a few people in front of him, head down deep in thought. Ginny was directly behind him, ears and face red, half from shouting, half from embarrassment. Several times she tried to apologize, but no words came out. As soon as they got off, everyone dispersed their separate ways.  
  
pDraco was, nonetheless, walking alone. Harry caught up to him. "D- Draco?" His voice was tiny, barely there. Oh Gods, he called me by my first name and--"Yes, Harry. I'm listening." It wasn't his fault he was so-mean. And sarcastic. Especially to Harry. "I wanted to.apologize for Gin's behavior. She was such an.well.anyway.I'm sorry." Draco's heart nearly melted. But, he was a Malfoy. And Malfoy's had to keep their composure. Always. "Thanks, Potter. I mean-Harry. I 'preciate it." Harry raised his eyebrows, said nothing, and kept walking.  
  
pIt was an awkward sight, Harry Potter, notorious good guy, Mister I've- saved-the-bloody-world-and-several-people-in-it. Then again, Harry's seen his share of deaths, Cedric, Sirius-even if he only remembered the screams, he had witnessed his mother die, as well. And the-boy-who-lived was slowly falling apart. Then there was Draco Malfoy, infamous bad boy and Dark One. He had the perfect family, perfect riches, perfect-everything. But his life had been shattered-all that was left was to hide the pieces, perfectly. p- End Ch.2- 


End file.
